Hot Blooded
by Winchester494
Summary: A trip to an abandoned prison in the desert could turn deadly for the boys when things get heated.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer -- Don't Own Anything.

_**A/N -- Hey I'm back with a new story, It took me really long to get this one up and running. I've been having crazy computer problems and it's really killing me, I lost the first chapter three times!!! I was just about ready to give it up, but I didn't so I hope you all like, I worked really hard on it. And as always tell me what you think!!!**_

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**_It was hot, a hundred plus in the shade, of which there was about none. Unless he counted his Sasquatch brother's shadow, which he didn't. 

They had been walking for hours and his feet were aching in his tight black boots. Dean was really starting to regret his choice of attire for the day. He sighed and wiped the sweat dripping from his brow for what seemed like the thousandth time in that minute, with an already soaked jacket sleeve. He admitted that wearing two shirts, a jacket and his favorite pair of jeans hadn't been the smartest thing.

Sam had woken him up with a bucket full of ice cubes poured onto his bare back. Not only had it been incredibly rude but it was before the sun was even up, and Dean Winchester did not wake before the sun, a morning person he was not. After the ice he just couldn't get warm, that and the fact that it was below zero out where they were going made Dean pile on the layers. While Sam just laughed as he pulled on a plain white t-shirt and his gray hodie.

The least the kid could have done was warn him, tell him to wear a little less clothing. Cause now he was literally sweating his ass off and while Sam joked and said no great loss it was getting too big anyway. Which of course earned him a slap to the back of the head from Dean, although it was half-hearted too hot to waste energy on it when he could just kick Sam's ass later.

"How much longer Sammy?" Dean asked swiping his forehead yet again.

"Just a couple miles over that dune and we should find the old prison." Sam nodded toward the thing that looked like a mountain to Dean.

"We've been walking for_ever _Sam, I'm tired of this. You are so never picking a hunt again." He said not completely serious.

"Thats what you say whenever we have to do some extra work." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean.

"Yea, well extra work sucks."

"Since when have you been afraid of a little sweat?" Sam quipped as Dean was wiping his brow yet again.

Dean didn't reply choosing instead to take a long swig from his canteen, not liking the swishing that indicated an almost empty can. His feet were dragging leaving boot tracks behind him.

"Pick up your feet Dean, you might fall and I am so not carrying you." Sam scolded.

"I hate walking." Dean grumbled, under his breath but still loud enough for his brother to hear.

"Well we could have taken the car, but _you _didn't want to." The youngest gave Dean a sideways glare.

Dean stopped looking at his brother with wide-eyed horror "And scratch her up, I don't think so."

Sam turned around when Dean didn't start up again, "Then stop complaining!" He half yelled.

They continued on in silence, Dean throwing the occasional dirty look at his younger brother until they reached the top. Dean sat down hard in the packed sand and firmly told Sam that they were taking a break, while pulling out two power bars that he had pack for the trip. He threw one at his brother who deftly caught it with a mumbled thanks before he was silenced as the food was shoved in his mouth. Dean smiled, his brother always had an appetite.

The old prison was visible to the brothers now. It was obviously abandoned, the barbed wire fence surrounding it down in more then one places. There were bunches of metal boxes placed periodically around the building, Dean assumed they were hotboxes. Places where prisons with bad behavior were put, Dean shuddered he couldn't stand the heat right now so he could never imagine being in one of those things. He suddenly had a weird feeling come over him, but he just couldn't place it.

"Hey, you ready now man?" Sam asked, he was already standing. Dean hadn't even realized he got up, too lost in his own thoughts.

"Uh yea, sorry I was just thinking." Dean shook his head and stood.

"Hmm you really think you should be doing that?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"Ha ha. Have I ever told you how funny you are?" Dean asked sarcastically, he didn't let Sam answer. "Why are we even doing this anyway? We could just come later tonight, when it's cooler and take on these ghosties." Dean started walking down the mountain sized dune, waiting for Sam to pack up his bag and follow his brother down.

"You know why Dean. It just isn't the smartest thing for us to do, you know with our luck and all." Sam rolled his eyes toward his brother.

"Yea, I definitely know. I just hate the hotness." He purposefully used the wrong word, getting his brother away from the subject. They both knew the time the other was referring to, and Dean just didn't want to talk about it.

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_August 1995, Montana Warehouse_

_"Dean you gotta have my back now OK?" Dean looked at his father, silently asking what he meant. Of course he had his back, he always did. But he didn't get an answer to the unasked question._

_"Yea, I always do." Dean finally replied._

_"Good boy. This spirit is nasty, its got no set killing pattern, but the bones are somewhere on the second floor. The recent demolition notice apparently made this thing very mad, so we gotta be careful." His dad explained quickly while handing Dean all the weapons he would need._

_"Did you get a chance to check everything out today while I was at school?" He asked adding the cartridges to his sawed-off and shoving a handful of extras into his pockets._

_"No, I didn't. All I was able to get was the blueprints, so we're going in partially blind. I don't even know where the most spiritual energy is, and it might take us a while to find the body so you gotta be on your game Dean." John said while they were walking toward the front entrance of the building._

_"Dude I'm always on my game." Dean said with a smirk._

_"I'm serious Dean, I can't have you getting hurt." John replied with a hand on his sons shoulder._

_Dean sobered up quickly at his father's tone. "Yes sir" he replied._

_"Good, lets go." They walked quickly and quietly to the chained front entrance. John pulled out his bolt cutters and snapped the chain with ease. They walked inside and looked around, John motioned toward the stairs indicating that they were to go up. Dean nodded following his father's lead. They made it to the second story without incident. John then pointed to the left Dean nodded and took the right. _

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In retrospect they probably shouldn't have split up, the spirit was nasty and out for blood and Dean just wasn't ready for it. John had thought the bones were on the left the side he had chosen for himself, but he had been terribly wrong. Dean had spotted them across the way from him and quickly made his way over the catwalk. He only made it halfway before the spirit had attacked. Before the whole thing was done Dean had been thrown off and broke almost every bone in his leg and shattered his wrist. They never went into a hunt blind like that again if they could help it.

Dean hadn't even realized that they had reached the bottom until he almost knocked into Sam who had stopped short in front of him. They were standing in front of a broken down part of fencing, they wouldn't even have to use the wire cutters they brought.

"You ready?" Sam asked turning his head to look back at Dean.

"Born that way little brother." He smirked when Sam scoffed and turned his head back around.

"Then would you like to lead the way?" The younger hunter swept his arm in front of him waving the older man on.

"Why you scared?" Dean asked arrogantly, taking taking the lead despite his mocking tone.

Sam didn't bother to answer, so Dean just walked on over the broken fence careful not to trip over any of the broken links or the sharp wire at the end. He grabbed Sam's arm holding him up when he lost his balance on a link Dean had just maneuvered himself safely over.

"First day with your new feet there Sammy?" The older hunter laughed.

"Shut up and keep walking Dean." Sam snapped back without even looking at his brother.

The two hunters walked next to each other making their way toward the front gates of the old jail. It was being renovated so it could become a museum kind of like Alcatraz. Dean didn't really know why a small town had such a big prison, he also wasn't too clear on why they were making it a tourist attraction. Yea there was the obvious make money thing, but it was such a dark point in the towns history.

There had been four riots, three incidents where a guard went physco on one of the inmates and over a hundred cases where an innocent was imprisoned and consequently put to death. It was incredibly messed up, the inmates weren't even given fair trials just killed if the crime they were accused of was horrid enough. It was no wonder that there was a spirit haunting the place, probably more then one, they would have to do a mass cleansing. Those weren't fun.

Dean kicked in the door for no other reason then he didn't feel like picking any locks.

"Dude, must you really kick in every door?" Sam asked.

"Definitely, thats the way Rambo would do it man." Dean smirked, moving forward into the old building.

There wasn't much to look at, the renovations had obviously just started. Everything had been cleared out in preparation for painting and the addition of more updated, nicer things that would suit a tourist attraction better than a prison.

"Alright Sammy I'll take the second floor you look down here." Dean wasn't really afraid of splitting up for two reasons. One, it was daylight and the spooks usually waited till night to come out and play. Two, there were two stories but there was no place that either of them could stand that they wouldn't be able to see the other, so Dean felt it was pretty safe to split up.

It was to bad that the freaks never really liked to play by the rules. It only took Dean to get to the top of the stairs to realize, they never should have split up.

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Okay, so thats chapter one, and as long as my computer doesn't start crapping out on me again the next one should be up in a reasonable amount of time.

Thanks for reading! And as always leave a little something to let an author know she's appreciated:) Thanks


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer -- Don't Own Anything

_**A/N -- Thanks for the great feedback guys! You all real awesome.**_

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Dean took the steps two at a time, choosing not to take to long on the steel traps that groaned in protest of his presence. He reached the top without falling through and thought that was an amazing feet in itself. There was a railing that surrounded the whole second floor which was flimsy at best and it shook when he put any weight on it.

"Hey Sammy" he yelled down "I guess it's just tape and glue holding this place together huh?" Emphasizing his point by shaking the cheaply made guardrail.

"Don't do that Dean, it's not safe." His brother yelled back.

"Oh chill out grandma, its broad daylight nothing is going to happen." He laughed.

Famous last words they say, although Dean liked to think that all of what he said would be famous. And it was as if the universe just wanted to prove him wrong, because at that moment there was a loud clang behind him as the previously closed cell door was forced open. Dean turned quickly and there was a rush of air past him that almost pushed him over the precariously hanging handrail. There was a yell from down below but Dean didn't really hear it, he was kind of preoccupied with trying not to fall.

Then suddenly he wasn't balanced over the edge of a two story drop, but flying through the air and oh god did he hate flying. Now that he thought about it it wasn't flying that he actually hated but the landings. They were always so hard and abrupt, shaking him to the core and this one was no different.

His back hit the bars behind him with crushing force and he swore if there had been a wall behind him he would have gone straight through. All the air left Dean's body in a painful rush, he tried to gasp for breath but his chest didn't seem to want to work properly. Dean was vaguely aware of shouting and the sound of shooting but everything was quickly fading to black. He tried to hang on, and put up a damned good fight but in the end the darkness was just too much and everything went away.

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Dean woke up with a gasp enjoying the sweet taste of oxygen flowing to his lungs. He lay there for a second just breathing before the rest of his senses came back to him. There was gunfire all around him shoots going off in rapid succession and for a second Dean thought he had woken up in a western. He could barley hear Sam's voice shouting his name above all the noise.

"Dean!" It was coming from the first floor and he thought it odd that Sammy hadn't come up to get him yet. He rolled over letting out a painful groan as his ribs protested, damn at least some of those things had to be broken. Breathing hurt way more than it should. He stood up on legs that felt too weak to hold him and turned toward the cell door to exit only to see through sliding vision that it was still firmly shut.

He walked over on wobbly legs looking all like a new born calf, he reached out blindly for the wall trying to gain his balance. When he was confident that he wouldn't collapse in a heap on the cold cement floor, he continued on to the cell door. Dean reached it and pulled, dumbly thinking that it would open if he pulled hard enough.

Dean heard Sam yell out from over the gunfire, it sounded like he was in pain and Dean immediately shook out the cobwebs and called for his brother.

"Sammy!" He shook the bars but only succeeded in jarring his already aching ribs.

"Dean stay down." He could barley hear his younger brother over the noise but he could clearly detect the pain in his voice.

Dean squeezed his head between the bars trying to get a glimpse of what was going on down below. After a minute of searching his eyes caught his baby brother. Sam was hidden behind an old vending machine crouched down low clutching his upper thigh where blood was slowly leaking out from between his fingers. There were hundreds of apparitions running around the first floor some with guns, others with crude weapons that looked to be knives. All of them were blood stained and pissed. They needed to get out of here and fast.

" Sam, we have to get out of here!" He saw Sam's head swivel and look toward him but before his brother could say anything there was another shot and Sam had to pull his head back behind the machine a bullet landing right where his head had just been. "Sammy! Get out!" He yelled slamming his shoulder into the bars desperately trying to get out.

"Dean I can't get up there." There was desperation in his voice and Dean knew that Sam was pleading with him to get out so they could leave together, begging him to break free so he wouldn't have to leave without him.

"Sam you gotta get out." He yelled down catching Sam's eyes through the gap in the bars, pleading with his brother to get out, save himself.

Sam just shook his head at Dean's plea, and the older man gave a frustrated growl under his breath and yelled out. "Dammit Sammy just go!" He shook the bars trying to emphasize his point. There was indecision in his little brother's eyes and Dean tried to convey strength and understanding telling Sam without words that he knew he would come back. "Go Sam come back to get me when it's safe." His voice was now just barley audible over the riot but Dean knew that Sam heard him.

The younger hunter nodded then looked for an opening to get through the long dead bodies who just wouldn't let go. Dean pulled back into the cell when a shot ricocheted into the small in-closed space. When he felt it was safe to peek through the bars again, Sam was gone a trail of blood left in his wake. Dean sighed in relief, at least his brother was out, and he would come back to get him out. No matter the circumstances.

The older hunter pushed away from the bars all his energy suddenly gone. The gunfire and yelling was still going on but it was just a distant nuisance in the back of his mind. Everything was slowly dying down to a dull roar, the edges if his vision going black. Dean moved away from the bars moving to the back conner of the prison cell sliding down the wall to sit and ride out the storm

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**A/N -- Second Chapter DONE!!! Yea! It sucked to write because my computer kept turning off on me. Ugh it was so annoying! But its all done now. And you know what to do, press that little purpley button!**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer -- Don't Own it Never Will

_**A/n -- Thanks for all the reviews and putting this on story alert and favorites list. Hope you all continue to enjoy!!**_

**A/N2- Okay don't shoot the writer people shoot her computer. I had this chapter done a week ago!! Then my computer shut down and I lost all the material I wanted to throw it out the window!!!!! But I didn't and I finished it! So if you have to shoot something shoot the computer!!!**

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Sam limped slowly away trying not to look back too much.

As soon as he had gotten himself relatively safely out of the old prison, having picked up a graze in his shoulder, Sam had tried to get right back in. Not knowing what had made him leave in the first place. Normally even if Dean was using his best 'Sam puppy dog eyes' Sam could resist fairly easily. This was different like, he had to leave, as if there was no other option in his mind. And that was another weird thing, because in the world of Winchester there is always another way, always another option.

Sam tripped and fell hard in the tightly packed sand. He cried out as the bullet wound in his leg protested loudly at the shitty treatment. The youngest Winchester lay there for a few seconds trying to get his bearings back, pushing the pain to the farthest corners of his mind and Dean's safety into the forefront. Sam got on one knee keeping his injured leg as straight as he could to minimize the pain, from there he pushed his bent leg up using one leg to haul up his whole body.

Once on his feet he moved forward as quickly as his injuries would allow, he was already feeling light-headed from the blood loss. Sam didn't know what he was going to do, the best choice would be to get back to the motel patch up and go get his brother, but if Sam was honest to himself he knew that there was no way he could walk through the desert get to the motel and come all the way back under his own will.

He thought about calling Bobby but knew he was on another hunt with Ellen, some exorcism up north so even if he could get a hold of one of them there was still no way that they would get to them in time. Sam was on his own, and this time he was the one who had to save his brother's ass.

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Dean jerked awake shaking off the remnants of the sleep he hadn't even realized he had fallen into. He couldn't seem to process anything other than, it hurt to breathe and there had to be a rock concert going on in his head, or a little guy with a hammer trying to knock his way out. There was a distant pounding and at first he dismissed it thinking it was the drum solo of the painful concert in his head, but the sound persisted and seemed to be getting louder.

The young hunter craned his neck to look over the decrepit cot that he had placed between himself and the cell door sometime before he had passed out. It probably wasn't the best form of protection especially against ghosts but it was the best one he had. Sam had everything except Dean's EMF and about the only thing he could do with that would be to throw it, and he really didn't want to do that, it had been a bitch to put together.

There was a black form just at the edge of the cell door, it was banging what looked to be a nightstick on the side of the bars. Dean really didn't like those things, cops used 'em more then they had a right to. Dean ducked his head back down when the figure moved farther forward, and peeked out from under the mattress to try and keep from being detected.

When the figure in black came fully into view he was able to see that it was a guard, or the ghost of what used to be a guard. It kept moving walking briskly past slowing down only to give Dean a malicious smile then continued past whistling a happy tune.

Dean ducked back behind the cot, "Well that wasn't at all creepy." he mumbled to himself.

"Don't worry he's not the worst thing you'll face in here." Came a voice from next to him. Dean turned his head so fast he wouldn't be surprised if he added whiplash to his list of injuries.

There in front of the wall hanging from the rafters was a spirit dressed in prison issue pinstripes. He jerked back in surprise, "Holy " Dean whispered out.

"Nothing holy 'bout it kid." The apparition fell down from the rafters the rope still hanging around its pale blue neck. One second the long dead inmate was across the cell the next he was holding Dean up against the wall by the neck, leaving the hunter to wonder how he had missed _that_.

"C-can't we talk about this?" Dean chocked out. " There's no need to get violent." He coughed the ghost cutting off the air supply that was already limited by his aching ribs.

Dean's comments didn't seem to fly to well with the ghost, or at least thats what Dean thought judging by the slamming he took afterwords. He wanted to throw in one more 'or not' to keep up his sarcastic charade, to try and not show how much the pain in his head was affecting him but he wasn't given the chance.

"You're going to regret ever coming here boy. Then when we're done with you and your friend comes back to find your dead rotting corpse, we'll make him regret ever coming back for your sorry ass."

Dean hadn't really been paying attention up to that point. Usually when a ghosty is trying to snap one of you very vital body parts in half thats all you can focus on. But once he heard his little brother get thrown into the mix everything else was forgotten. He tried to shake out the black that was slowly encroaching his vision. "You leave him alone you son-of-a-bitch!"

"You really don't have any say in this _boy. _Now wait here." He was thrown roughly to the cot. "The guard will be back for you later." Then something strange happened, not only did the ghostly apparition leave but so did everything else as his vision went frightfully dark.

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Sam stumbled again but this time kept his feet. It was getting increasingly difficult to walk, and focus, and remember where the car was, and well everything seemed harder with blood loss. He wondered how Dean handled it so well, his body was probably used to the low blood oxygen levels. Sam's, not so much and it seemed as if it was content in showing that.

There was a blood trail following behind him and Sam knew that it was a dangerous thing to leave a trail that easy to follow. He chose to ignore the other more obvious threat of leaving a _blood _trail. He had enough to think about, Sam couldn't let his own vulnerability bring him down at the moment. After Dean was safe he could pass out and sleep for days. Maybe even get a much needed transfusion and stitch job, yea that would be nice.

And that was when Sam knew he was really in trouble. When you start to think that stitches and blood are something to look forward to, then thats when you pretty much done. Sam stopped and looked down at himself. He looked like he had just jumped out of a horror movie and he knew that even if he could find someone nearby they definitely wouldn't help him.

Sam stumbled over his own feet for what could have been the hundredth or the millionth time, he really didn't know anymore. Blood loss would do that to you, it was a bitch to deal with in the best of circumstances. Which of course just as Winchester rule dictated it wasn't, they could never catch a break. Freakin' sucky luck.

The young hunter wiped the dripping sweat off his brow with a blood soaked sleeve. It was an odd sensation being hot and cold at the same time, and Sam thought that feeling two opposite sensations at the same time would be impossible. But it was another Winchester thing to defy all things possible. Sam also felt really bad about getting on his brother's back about his complaining earlier. Oh what Sam wouldn't give for Dean to be walking next to him griping about anything he could. Complaining was something that came with the Dean package and sometimes it pissed off to no end, but Sam really wished his older brother was with him at the moment. Instead of trapped in a dirty old prison cell going through who knew what.

Sam got to the top of a dune he had been struggling over. His feet were making ruts as they dragged along behind him. Walking was truly getting tiresome, he was just wasn't sure he would be able to go on much longer when he saw her. The Impala, shining in the sun like the black beast she was. Sam doubled his pace, or tried to it was kinda hard to do when you were already going as fast as you could. He made it down without any more trips to meet the ground with his face, although he did come pretty close a few times.

He reached the car and ran his hand along the hood. Sam wasn't as in love with the old car as his brother was, but he really did appreciate what she did for them. The Impala was their home and transportation, it took hits neither of the brothers could and kept on coming. Withstanding blood stains and ectoplasm with hardly a complaint. Although it would be hard for a car to complain, but no matter how he looked at it Sam knew the Impala was as much a part of the family as his brother was.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Sam said fondly. He pulled the door open and sat hard in the front seat. When the leather squished under him he knew it was a bad sign Dean was so going to kill him. "Oh crap." He looked down at himself and saw that the blood was already staining the leather. "Dammit." His eyes traveled to the back seat where there was always a blanket laying in the back just for these purposes. Dean was adamant about blood on the leather, always said it was a bitch to get out.

Sam thought about reaching in the back for the blanket but looking down at himself and feeling the squishing under his legs he knew it was a lost cause. He mentally promised Dean he would scrub until it was as good as new. The young Winchester patted down his pockets feeling for the keys, "Oh crap, crap, crap." The keys were in a pocket, just not Sam's.

Dean was going to kill him plain and simple. The mantra going through Sam's head as he pulled out the needed wires was basically,'sorry sorry sorry' and 'deans going to kill me, deans going to kill me.' As the Impala roared to life Sam said one last apology before pushing down on the gas utilizing the leg that didn't have the gory bullet wound in it and sped out heading toward the motel, but not really knowing if he would make it that long.

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When he finally awakes it's not in the same place he fell asleep. He is considerably hotter than before and there is something hot and sticky running rivulets down his forehead and back, he's not sure if it's blood or sweat. Neither one it appealing to him at the moment, though if he had to pick one he would go with the sweat. It was easier to get that out of clothes, blood stained like a bitch.

Dean wiped his forehead and brought his fingers in front of his face in inspection, that was weird. It actually was sweat he expected to be lying in a pool of his own blood, cause so rarely did anything go right for him. Dean sighed, lifting his eyes made his head spin but he did it anyway taking in his new surroundings.

He was enclosed in what could have literally been a giant sardine can, it was small enough and just moving his arms into a new position would equal a nice ol' bruise on his elbow. He was sitting on a wooden bench, the walls around him made of some metallic material. Dean reached out, an odd curiosity burning in the green depths of his eyes. As soon as his fingers hit the metal he jerked them back hissing in pain. He stuck his aching fingers into his mouth trying to alleviate some of the pain from what had to be a second or third degree burn. Well that definitely hadn't been one of his better ideas.

When he pulled out his fingers to check out the damage he saw the tips of his middle and pointer fingers were blackened, looking way to similar to the leather lining his baby. His ring and little finger weren't as bad, they only looked to like they had gotten a bad sunburn. And it was his shooting hand that was going to hurt when he shot every single one of those damn ghosts, fan-freakin'-tastic.

Dean shook his hand out trying to ignore the sting, there wasn't really anything he could do for that. He wiped his forehead again trying to get the stinging sweat out of his eyes.

He was hot and he thought it weird that his body was only really coming to terms with that now. He had to have been in the metal box for at least fifteen minutes already and who knew how long he was sitting there while unconscious. Dean needed a drink, after his body realized it was hot it also come across the other revelation that it wasn't too happy being deprived of the life giving substance of water. He patted down his sides searching his body for the canteen he had had there the last time he checked, which was before he was even thrown in the cell. He found his keys and a few mints from some dinner on the side of the highway but no canteen, damn.

The oldest Winchester tried to gather some spit in his mouth but it was like trying to pick up salt grains with tweezers, which his dad had made him do when Sam accidentally knocked over the last bag and Dean took the blame. That night had pretty much sucked. Dean sighed letting his chin rest on his chest for a moment before pulling it up and looking ahead of him. The wall in front of him wasn't actually a wall but a door and he wondered how he hadn't noticed that before.

He cocked his head to the side and reached out to push open the handle, could it really be that simple? Maybe just this once. . .

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Dean looked up and noticed that there was a sliding peephole about two feet above the door handle.

He swallowed trying to get enough saliva in his mouth to be able to speak. "Huh?" Was all he managed to croak out, his voice breaking with the small phrase.

"You heard me boy, you try and get out again and it's three more days. So sit back and enjoy the weather, some people would kill for heat like this you can work on your tan." The guard smiled then vanished with a blink of light.

As soon as the ghost was gone Dean went for the handle again, he was never one for listening to authority figures anyway. He pulled trying to ignore the sizzling of the flesh on his hand as the superheated metal burned it. The door didn't budge and he let go with a growl of frustration. Dean looked at his hand seeing the skin on his palm hanging off made him nauseous and he swallowed hard trying to fight the urge.

All the willpower in the world couldn't keep the meager contents of his stomach in place, a combination of a concussion and, well he didn't really want to think about his hand, wreaked havoc on the stomach.

Dean sighed and sat back as far as he could while still keeping his back off of the dangerously hot metal behind him. He tucked his chin into his chest and closed his eyes, it was going to be a long day. He was really tired and hot and a whole bunch of other things that he couldn't really focus on all at once. Dean really hoped Sam came to get him soon, he didn't know how much longer he could last in the heat of the desert.

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_**A/N2 - Sorry again for the wait hope you all don't hate me. The next one most definitely won't take as long the computer should be good now(Hopefully, keep your fingers crossed!)**_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer -- You know the story, Don't own anything

_**A/N -- Thanks for the Awsome feedback!! Glad you are all liking the story.**_

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_It was beautiful out. The sun was shining, the water sparkling, and the sand nice and hot where he lay. Dean had always liked the beach. Ever since the family used to take day trips to the shore and relax on the lake when he was younger, he really missed those days, when things were simpler and life was about sleeping eating and getting his diaper changed. Life was far from simple or easy these days. It was nice to just to sit back, relax and get his tan on. _

_He smiled letting the sun warm his face, his arms tucked behind his head acting as a pillow. Dean shifted his head as a girl in a barley there bathing suit strutted past him, another great reason to go to the beach, half of the work was already done for him. He smirked, he loved the sand and surf._

_Speaking of surf, Sammy had taken the trip with him and was at the moment taking a dip in the chilly ocean. Dean propped himself up on his elbows surveying the water for his brother. When Dean saw him he immediately saw that something was wrong, Sam's hands were waving in the air and a swcond later he dissapeared from view. It looked as if something had pulled him over and Dean was running toward the shore before he even realized. _

_"Sam!" He yelled wanting so bad for his brother to just pop up. Sam was too far out, too far away to save. Dean made it to where he had last seen his little brothers head, "Sam! Sam!" He looked all around but Sam was gone swallowed up by the unending see._

_"Sammy. no"_

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Dean awoke with a gasp his head jerking up and hitting the metal wall behind him. He reached up and tenderly rubbed the already forming knot, damn like he needed another knock to the head. His whole body pulsed in time with his heart beat, clearly telling him it wasn't too happy with the crappy treatment. Damn body couldn't it ever shut up? He had too much to think about at the moment. Mainly how to get out of the box and go find Sam, his mudlled mind not realizing his baby brother had already went out for help.

Dean's mind couldn't focus on any one thing for long, one moment he was thinking about escape the next his dream. He thought it odd that he had dreamt about water, when there was none of it around him, odd and undeniably wrong. It wasn't fair that he could dream about the ocean and all its glistening water when he didn't even have enough saliva in his mouth to swallow. If he thought about it, which he didn't want to but really what else did he have to do? If he thought about he guessed that it was either his mind taking him to a place that was similar in climate but easier for him to handle. Or his mind was just a bitch and wanted him to see all the water he couldn't have. Either one sucked.

He sighed running his hands through his sweat slicked hair, forgetting about his damaged hand. The eldest Winchester hissed and cursed under his breath when the ravaged skin was pulled further away from the bones. Damn that hurt like a bitch. He really needed to get out of the hotbox. It was, well it was freakin' hot and he really couldn't deal with it anymore.

He reached for the door handle again, he couldn't seem to help it. Like the thing was pulling him in, there musta been a magnet in his hand or something. Just before Dean's hand reached the handle the eyehole opened for a second time. The sane gaurds face appeared again, and he was really _really _starting to get tired of the guy.

"You don't listen very well do you.?" The guard sneered at him.

"Nah, I try not to find it distracting." He said but it came out as just a mere whisper.

"You've got some balls talking to me like that kid. Do you have any idea what I could do to you?" Dean opened his mouth to reply but was cut off. "That was a rhetorical question boy. Now I do remember telling you not to try and get out didn't I? See that was another rhetorical question. I know you tried to get out and now you're in real trouble."

"Really cause I already thought I was in trouble." Dean said finally finding a chancew to talk.

The ghostly guard smiled. "Not as much as you're going to be." The door was wrentched open and Dean was pulled out into the blazing sun.

* * *

There was an odd distant beeping sound coming from somewhere in the room. The sound was familiar but he couldn't quite grasp what exactly was disturbing his sleep. He wanted to open his eyes but it seemed like an impossible task at the moment, so instead he opted to just lay there and wait till his eyes didn't seem so heavy.

The next time he was aware of anything again had to be hours later judging by the sun he could feel pounding down onto the side of his face. He tried opening his eyes again and this time was more sucessful than he had been previously. It was odd looking up at the white ceiling and smelling the strong scent of antiseptic, he knew he was suppossed to be somewhere doing something else something important but he just couldn't remember what.

Sam's confused thoughts were interupted as a man wearing blue scrubs walked in.

"Well it is nice to finally see you awake." Said the doctor. He was middle-aged looking with gray hairs peaking out all over his head and beard. He looked down at a chart with glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

Sam tried talking but all that came out wasw a croak that made his cheeks flush, he cleared his throat and tried again. "Um thanks?"

"I didn't do much son just sewed up you leg and arm and gave you some blood you should really thank the couple that found you."

"Found me?" It seemed all Sam could do was ask questionsit was really starting to annoy him, he was usually the one with all the answers.

"Yes you were brought in last night bullet wound in your leg and arm, had to dig the slug outta your shoulder. The couple said that they found you on the side of the road just outside of town, your car, which I heard was a beauty was crashed into the guardrail. Your lucky they found you, a little longer out there and you would've bleed out." The doctor said concern writen all over his face.

"I crashed the Impala." He whispered in disbelief.

"I don't think you realize how serious this is, your lucky you didn't die. You shouldn't worry about your car, you lost a lot of blood and you've been out since late last night."

Late last night, late last feakin' night. That meant that Dean had been alone in the prison for almost a day. Damn, Dean had to be in trouble Sam had to get back to him and now. "Sir I understand and thank you for treating me, but it's actually my brother's car and he'll be really upset if I don't find out how it is." Sam said needing to know where the Impala was, it was his only means of transportation and his only way to get to Dean.

"Sorry but before I answer any of your questions I have a couple of my own. Now what is your name? We couldn't find anything in your wallet and when we called the last dated number in your phone there was no answer."

Sam thought for a moment trying to remember which name they had used this time. "My name's Sam Pennine." Sam had picked the name this time. He had seen the name in the paper and decided that it would be a good inconspicuous pseunomen.

The doctor scribled the information down on the clipboard and looked up again. "Thank you Sam, I'll be right back I'm gonna go put this information up with the front desk. I'll have some more questions for you when I get back and if you're up to it you've got o fill out some paper work."

Sam just nodded knowing that he wouldn't be there when the doctor got back. Sam hadn't snuck out of hospitals as much as his brother had but he was still an expert on the art of it. Avoid security, look like you're only there visiting, don't attract attention. Those were the main rules that their dad had taught them about sneaking out, it wasn't as hard as some people probably thought it was.

He pulled himself up slowly, throwing the bedcovers to the side and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. Sam had to stop for a second when the pain hit his leg and ran up his body like a wildfire. For a minute he couldn't move, couldn't breathe and he was afraid he was going to miss his chance to get out but his breath came back as fast as it had left. Finally able to stand he went ot the closet and grabbed a bag that was labled 'John Doe 4', he assumed it was himself. The bag contained a blood stained pair of jeans, a t-shirt, his hodie and a dark denim jaket that he didn't remember wearing.

Sam slipped into the clothes careful of the thick bandages tied around his arm and leg, the clothing bulged with the gauze underneath but the jacket and hodie hid most of it. He pulled on the boots that had also been placed in the bottom of the bag, it hurt to bend his legs and tie the shoes but he had to get out he had to save Dean.

The young hunter stood a little shakily but quickly regained his balance. He peeked out the window of the doors room and saw that the hallway was full of only nurses and painents, no doctors to recognize him. Sam pushed open the door with his good arm and made his way down the hall to the elevators, normally he would use the stairs in a situation like this but he really didn't think that his leg could handle it.

He made it to the elevator and out the front doors without any incidents. He walked confidently to a car parked in the middle of the lot outside and opened the door thankingthe heavens that the idiot that owned the Honda had left it open. Sam stealthily hotwired the carand backed out of the lot heading in the direction of the desert silently promising Dean that as soon as he was safe they would go and get the Impala together.

* * *

Dean was yanked hard by some invisible force out into the hot sun, it was weird though, it felt cooler than it had in the box and he shivered under the blazing heat of the sun. It was so bright that he closed his eyes the sunlight burning his sensitive corneas. It was undair wasn't he already beaten down enough, what did these ghosts want now?

And it was as if they had heard the unasked question. "Dean Winchester," came three male voices from somewhere around him, his eyes still not open to see. "you were sentenced to three days in the hotbox, you were told not to leave or attempt to leave. Unfourtunetly for you, listening isn't one of your best qualities. Now you will be punished as we see fit for your crimes."

Dean finally opened his eyes and what he saw made his knees weak. In front of him were three guards and directly behind them were two tall poles. Dean imediately knew what they were for, it was a whipping post, and he didn't have to be a genius to figure out what his punishment was going to be.

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed this took me a while to write especially with midterms right now. Whew!! I'm glad that chapters over the next one is going to get very intense!!!!!!!

Sorry about any spelling mistakes the spell check wasn't working for me :(


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer -- Don't own Anything.

* * *

The Honda Sam was driving had dents in the doors and a cracked windshield. The engine groaned in protest as he pushed the pedal down harder needing to get to Dean. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. There was no answer at Bobby's so Sam tried the cell with the same result. He was starting to feel like Bobby had become as bad at answering their calls as their dad had been. Sam left a brief message saying that they could use some help and Dean was in trouble, again, but didn't really expect a call back anytime soon.

His head hurt, a side affect from leaving the hospital too early and major blood loss. It wasn't something that was uncommon in his family but he would still never truly get used to it. Sam knew he was still a couple of hours away from the prison. The hospital had been two towns over from where they had actually been staying.

Sam shook his head trying not to think about what Dean was going through at the moment. He was alone in the desert, possibly hurt, knowing Dean that was more like probably hurt. It was also a possibility that his brother had gotten out and was wondering aimlessly around the hot sand, it was just like Dean to get lost.

Sam was in too much pain to focus on anything other than driving anymore. So he shook his head and leaned forward as if his mere body weight would make the car go faster.

* * *

_Previous day._

Dean stared mouth almost hitting the hot desert floor. There was no way that a few ghosts could seriously pull this one off. No, no way. But it was happening there were flickering arms gripping his upper arms, hard enough that even though the fingers weren't real there was most likely going to be bruising.

"Hey you guys wanna lay off the merchandise huh?" His gravely voice asked.

"The more you talk the more you scream." Said a voice near his ear.

"Yea and you shouldn't talk at all, ya know a couple of years being dead really does a number on your breath." Sometimes Dean thought if he should just stop talking, it always seemed to get him into trouble. He was turned around and thrown into the pole that was later o going to hold more pain for him. Breath left him in a rush, and for a few terrifying moments he couldn't draw another one in. He floundered like a fish out of water trying to breath through what had to be more broken ribs.

Just when Dena thought he was going to pass out from the lack of air, just when he thought that living was overrated anyway he was dropped to the ground and life sustaining air came back with a punch. He coughed for a minute while he lay there just enjoying the air that was sawing in and out of his lungs.

"Normally that would be enough to show a prisoner who's really in charge, but I have a feeling that it's gonna take more than that to show you your place." One of the guards said while three sets of hands grabbed him in different places hauling him to his feet.

"Really? You figured that out all yourself."

The ghosts chose not to respond to that comment instead one of them, the one that had kept visiting him back in the hotbox, gave an order. "Tie him up."

Dean was flying again, and oh how he hated it. At least this time it was brief but he didn't know what was worse, flying or stopping but being tied to a whipping post with ropes that could be phantom or really digging grooves into his wrists. Either way they were way too tight cutting off the circulation to his hands, and dammit he needed those.

There was a crack behind him and Dean couldn't help but flinch as the whip was snapped just behind him.

"You having fun yet kid?" Dean just kept his head down taking deep breaths, trying to prepare his body for what was to come.

The guard gave a nod to his ghostly companion, and the whip cracked again but this time meeting flesh.

* * *

_Present Day_

Sam cursed, and cursed again, and one more time just for good measure. He hadn't even seen the damn car and that seemed like an almost impossible task because seriously he was in the middle of the desert there was nothing for the car to hide behind. It had been on the middle divider when he passed doing over 90 in a 60 zone and even the most lenient cop couldn't let that one go.

When the siren had gone on he had almost jumped out of his skin, his focus on getting back to Dean so singular all outside distractions were ignored. Even with the siren it hadn't registered with Sam that there was a police cruiser behind him and he had gone a couple of miles at least before finally pulling over, and of course that made the cop extra freakin' cautious. Sam knew that the guy was gonna ask for a drivers license that was in the Impala and was gonna run the plates on a stolen car, and dammit he really didn't have time for this.

There was a knock on the window, arrogant and short, Sam knew that knock.

He rolled down the window making sure to use his uninjured arm to turn the manual lever. " 'Afternoon officer." He nodded his head politely keeping his eyes forward, trying to avoid confrontation.

The officer glanced down the road, turning his head sharply to the side then leaned down to look into the rear of the Impala, checking for drugs, beer bottles, he really wasn't sure. "Yea, do you, uh." the older man turned back to look at him and Sam snapped his eyes back to front, having let them stray to automatically assess the threat the man posed. "Do you know how fast you were going there?"

Sam swallowed shifting his hands on the wheel, all the muscles in his body tense. "I don't know sir, I'm in kind of a hurry. I didn't really realize I was going so fast, sorry." He was trying to be as polite as possible, maybe keeping himself out of more trouble than he was already in. Small town cops didn't like outsiders, especially those who caused trouble.

The cop whose name Sam caught from the tag on his shirt was O' Malay, hiked up his belt making the gun holstered on his hip obvious, this guy meant business. "You were way over the speed limit and I don't really like it when reckless kids go speeding down my road." O' Malay leaned in resting his pudgy arm on the window.

"Sorry, sir." He threw that sir in for good measure this guy reminded him of all the small town cops who loved to use and abuse their power over the just passing through and the new comers.

"What do you need to be going so fast out here for. Not much around, 'cept of course the old prison but thats closed down."O' Malay leaned down pulling the glasses from his face so he could look Sam straight in the face, and Sam had to lean back when he caught a whiff of the old man's breath. A combination of coffee, donuts and chewing tobacco. Sam had to resist pulling back not even a dead body smelt that bad. "Strictly off limits during the construction, someone could get hurt."

It was odd the way he was talking about the prison like he knew there was more going on then just some construction. The way his eyes glinted with hidden malice as he spoke about it, this guy knew that the place was haunted, and maybe he knew that Dean was trapped there.

"There musta been a few kids down there the other day, I saw a nice car parked at the front entrance. Long walk from there to the actual prison though." The officer smiled the sun glinting off his yellowed teeth. Sam kept his mouth shut eyes forward, he was digging his nails into the steering wheel leaving little crescent shapes in the black padded plastic. "It was odd, I went down to find the kids, kick 'em out maybe call their parents. I drove all the way down there and the prison was empty." Sam pulled in a sharp breath, panic overriding all logic thought. Empty? It shouldn't be empty Dean was supposed to be there! "And when I left the car was gone, pulled a Houdini act on me, I didn't even catch the plates. All that was left was a pool of blood."

"I wouldn't know what you're talking about." His voice was tense, vocal cords straining against the need to just scream out.

"Oh you see I think you do. I know you were at the prison, I know you have two healing bullet wounds, and I also know that your friend is still stuck there. Ya know he's pro'ly reliving what those prisoners had to go through" He smiled again. "I brought those things back, and I won't have a couple of damn hunters screwing it all up!" With those last promising words a gun was drawn and Sam was staring at the business end of a crazed cops pistol, he almost laughed when he thought about how normal this very situation was. If he had a dollar for every time a psycho cop stuck a gun in his or his brother's face, well he would be a millionaire.

"Hey, just calm down OK? How about we take it easy and talk about this." Sam slowly raised his hands of the wheel moving them into the air, trying to placate the other man.

"Shut up! Get out of the car slowly, no sudden movements." Sam did as he was told keeping his hands in the air, he could beat this guy easy under normal circumstances but the man had a gun expertly trained on his head, now wasn't the time to take stupid risks. The door was opened for him, and Sam slowly slid out of the front seat. It was odd moving around in a bucket seat, he was so used to the bench seating of the Impala. "Good, keep it slow. Now move forward to the back of the cruiser. You try anything I shoot."

"OK, OK. I'm not trying anything, just don't shoot. Think about what you're doing, you don't really think you're going to get away with killing me do you?" He shifted his eyes to the side glancing behind him to the officer whose gun still didn't waiver.

"I'm not gonna kill you. I'm going to let those guards finish what they started on your friend then give 'em you." The gun jammed into his injured shoulder making him miss a step and almost fall to his knees, he caught his balance just in time thoughts of his brother keeping him focused on the situation instead of the pain.

He reached the back door of the car, thankfully on his feet and with his skull intact. O' Malay seemed incredibly unstable and Sam really didn't feel comfortable having the guy hold a gun to his head. "Get in" the officer said pulling open the back door. In cruisers you couldn't open the back doors from the inside and there was a bullet proof glass separating him and the front seat. So even if he had a weapon or even a plan to try and get out they probably wouldn't work all that well.

The car started with a slight rumble, nothing compared to the Impala's purr and it pulled off heading toward the old prison.

* * *

Dean felt the first strike. His eyes screwed up in pain, and he let out a truncated grunt. Refusing to yell out.

_One_

He actually heard it before he felt it. The whip cracked striking his back with breath taking force. His body flinched forward arms straining against the ropes binding him.

_Two_

The next strike had the ropes straining, muscles in his arms pulling trying to release him from his plight, in vain. The veins in his neck stood out stark blue against his rapidly paling flesh. All the blood rushed to his back pouring out as the next strike opened the rapidly bruising flesh.

_Three_

There was wet warmth running down Dean's back, and it was odd that he was suddenly cold, shivering even. The sun was still hot blazing over head but still the chill seemed to seep into his bones, wrapping its icy tendrils around his heart.

_Four_

The hits were coming hard, but not fast. The wielder of this torture device wanted him to feel every hit. The time it took for the hits to come seemed worse than the pain, the anticipation making it ten times worse when they actually landed.

_Five_

The next few came in quick succession.

_Six_

_Seven_

_Eight_

_Nine_

_Ten_

There was a pause and Dean let his head hang, chin touching his chest his wrists were raw, muscles tired with the effort of trying to pull away from the ropes. He couldn't remember if he had screamed or not, he really hoped that the tortured sound had stayed trapped in his throat. Dean's breathing was coming in gasp, this shouldn't hurt this much, this shouldn't make him this tired. He thought it was over, thought that he had a reprieve, but there was no break for him.

_Eleven_

He was fading all the energy gone, fight fleeing his body as the hits kept coming.

_Twelve_

He swore he could feel the skin peel away from his back.

_Thirteen_

He saw the blood drip to the ground, watched as the parched earth soaked up the only moisture it was going to get. He was reminded of a vampire the way the dirt seemed to greedily drink up his life force.

_Fourteen_

Blood was supposed to stay in your body. Right? He didn't know anymore, it didn't seem to want to. So maybe it belonged outside.

_Fifteen_

He was fading, thoughts rambling. Mind scrambled by the heat and pain. He was going to lose it and all before Sam could come save him. Or was he supposed to save Sam? He didn't know anymore. He was tired, so he gave in to the blackness that was encroaching his vision. Let it swallow him whole.

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The End...

haha jk. Did I scare you? Tell me what you thought. Reviews are gold, they help me update faster. (Yes that is a shameless ploy I know. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer -- Don't Own Anything.

_**A/n: Thanks for all the reviews and hits and people who liked the story enough to put it on alert or their favs**_.

A/n - Ahh don't be mad, don't be mad!! Please!? I am so sorry I know I promised this for Thursday but I couldn't get it up. "Dodges flying Rocks If you want to grab your pitchforks and torches I'll understand, but at least read the chapter first!!

* * *

The ride was silent, almost unbearably so. Sam kept waiting for the officer to rant and rave, maybe even monologue a little, but all he did was crank up the radio. O' Malay's fingers were tapping lightly on the wheel, obviously there was another song playing in his head. Sam leaned forward pushing on the glass in front of him, but trying o keep his low and out of sight of the searching eyes in the rear view mirror.

Sam's green eyes meet the cold brown ones of the man up front, and if looks could really kill Sam's knows he would be six feet under. But then there is a smile dancing on those malicious lips, like O'Malay knew a joke that he wasn't going to share with the class.

"Don't worry 'bout a thing kid, it won't be as bad as you're thinking. You'll probably die nice and quick like, but your friend, well lets just say those guards had some pent up aggression." The insane cop held Sam's gaze, smile never faltering.

"Well gee, I just can't tell you how excited I am." Sam snarled

O'Malay's eyes narrowed then turned back to the empty road. "You better not be getting smart with me boy."

"Or what? You'll kill me?" Sam rolled his eyes pulling off the insolent teenager look he had been going for. "Last I checked you were doing that anyway."

The officer smiled, this time turning his head to get a full view of Sam. "If I were you I'd try not to make this harder on yourself." Was all he said and no manner of groaning sighing and goading got him to talk again. He hadn't even gotten him to monologue.

What kind of villain was this?

* * *

Dean woke slowly, prying gritty sand glued eyelids open. Everything hurt, even his toe nails and for all the injuries he has had he didn't think that that one was even possible. The sun hurt his eyes. The light too much for his blown pupils to handle. He squinted trying to get a good look around him.

He was in the box again, he could tell without even looking. The hot metal against his back and direct ray of light on his eyes, dead give aways to where he currently lay incapacitated. And he hated that word, hated that Sam had to tell him what it meant and hated that he could at the moment describe his position with it. It hurt his pride more than anything else.

Carefully he pulled his ravaged back away from the hot metal behind him, gritting his teeth as the dried blood acted like glue, holding him back. He finally pulled free with a gasp, pain lighting a fire all throughout his body. It burned so hot, so intense, that he wished he had a fire extinguisher or at least a glass of water to feed the desert in his throat.

He licked his lips tasting blood from the numerous cracks. He felt so dry, shriveled up, like his body was slowly drying out. It wasn't pleasant.

Dean squinted up at the light that shone through the eye hole of the tin box prison. Not surprised when he saw a pair of sadistic eyes staring back at him.

"What d' ya wan' now?" he asked, forcing the words passed a thick tongue and swollen lips.

"Can't a concerned guard just check up on his favorite prisoner?" Dean wasn't sure if the guy was actually smiling, but judging by the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners he assumed so.

"You s'ould p'rolly get some things stra'ght here man. One y'ur dead. Two I'm 'live and I plan on stayin' tha' way. And three once I get outta h're I'ma hunt ya down." Dean stated proud that his voice held out long enough to get through his whole tirade.

The guard smiled at that, like he knew something Dean didn't. And that was freakin' weird 'cause really what could a ghost know that he already didn't. "You keep on throwing these threats out, but I haven't seen you act on any of them. It's kinda disappointing ya know, he said you were gonna put up a real fight." Dean's snapped up focusing on the ghosts faded out face. Millions of questions flashed through his head and burned his tongue, but he didn't get any of them out as the eye hole was slammed shut. Dean swore he heard laughter on the wind.

* * *

They finally reached the turnoff for the old road. The car ride was long and silent, Sam's goading doing nothing to make the older man react.

"We're here" the officer stated unnecessarily, finally breaking the oppressive silence.

The car pulled silently down the dirt road, scraping rocks and bouncing in the numerous pot holes. Sam had to anchor himself to the seat using the glass in front of him and the handle above his head for leverage. He let out a quiet groan sure that the man in front of him wouldn't hear the small show of weakness. The bumps made it feel like his wounds were tearing apart.

The ride that normally would take twenty minutes was cut down to ten, the officers driving fast and erratic. The cruiser screeched to a halt swinging slightly to the side when the momentum carried it past what the breaks could handle. "Don't move." O'Malay got out slowly age and weight making his movements less then agile. He made his way to Sam's door pulling out his gun and opening the door slowly so Sam wouldn't and couldn't bolt.

"You really don't have to do this you know." A last ditch effort, try to reason with the crazy man. "Me and my brother we could help you get rid of the ghosts, its kinda what we do. We can make it all go away, like it never ever happened. I can save my brother and you can go back to just being a sheriff." Sam pleaded using his over expresional eyes to convey his sincerity.

"Get rid of 'em? I brought the things here, and I wanna keep 'em here." They were walking now Sam in front the gun trained on his back. The top of the prison was just in sight so if Sam was going to get this guy on his side he had to work fast. "This town was dying, no one came through, there was nothing to see even though it had been built originally for tourist's. When they said they were gonna demolish this place I it seemed too good to be true. You see I knew about all the deaths, the riots and murders, dark stuff. Now I'd never really been the superstitious type but I found a ritual in a book at the library and thought 'Hell it can't hurt to try' so I did and it couldn't have worked out any better. Now I got an awesome tourist attraction, all I have ta do is keep these things under control."

Sam stopped turning to stare at the insane old man behind him. It was amazing what people thought they could control. He heard of a couple of nut jobs taking tigers as pets but trying to control some angry spirits all for more tourists, it was just insanity. "You're crazy" he stated simply."

O'Malay smiled then, they had reached the top of the dune and could clearly see the prison now. "And you're dead."

Then he kicked the back of Sam's knee in watching as his body rolled down the steep sandy hill.

* * *

Tbc... 


	7. Chapter 7a

Disclaimer -- Don't Own Anything

_**A/N - thanks for all the awesome reviews they really helped me get to writing this chapter. Hope you all enjoy the new chapter and your still with me.**_

Yes this is totally short and yes I owe you guys so much more than this but it was this or nothing for another week or so. I feel so bad not being able to get something up sooner but life sucks sometimes and you can't always do what you want. I'm going away for the weekend when I had planned on finishing this so thats why I just decided to post this part now then I will write like mad when I get home. That is if you guys still want to read this if you do you gotta let me know!! I'm trying really hard to stick with this so show some Love!!! Thanks!!

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Sam rolled slowly to a stop with a groan. That hadn't been the funnest thing he ever experienced in his life. He sat up slowly testing each limb individually seeing if anything was injured worse than it had been before his tumble down the hill, he was sore but nothing seemed to be broken. Then he checked his leg and arm, the stitches on the wound in his leg had thankfully held but his arm was once again bleeding, but you couldn't win 'em all.

He turned his head slowly to look up the hill wincing when his neck let out an audible crack, Sam saw that the officer that O'Malay was slowly making his way down the hill. Apparently he didn't think that Sam's way down looked too fun. The youngest Winchester got up quickly ignoring the aches and pains that shot through his body and the fire that pulsed in his arm. Even though the other man had the gun and therefore the advantage Sam didn't want to let the older man have any more of an advantage then he already did.

O'Malay smiled at him. "Was that fun kid?"

"You know you really gotta stop calling me kid, its Sam. I figure if you're gonna kill me you should know my name." O'Malay opened his mouth to speak but Sam cut him off. "Oh and my partner, yea he's my brother, Dean. Just thought you'd wanna know the names of the people you're killing." Sam stated sneer firmly in place on his face.

The older man smiled. "I'm not a killer Sam. I"m doing this for the good of the town, you hunters keep coming here trying to stop me but you just don't learn." He shook his head smiling.

Sam looked at the man incredulous. How many hunters had this psycho killed? "You've gotta be kidding me! How stupid have you gotta be to mess with stuff like this?"

The officer frowned thinking it over for a second, then shook his head like he was dispelling the words from his head."Shut up Sam, time to see your brother."

Sam walked in silence, wheels turning, trying to formulate a plan. Nothing of use was coming to him. His eyes shifted back and forth roving the landscape, searching for anything that he could use. Nothing. Not even a damn rock.

He didn't realize he had stopped until the gun was shoved into his back and he stumbled forward a step.

"Keep it moving." O'Malay jabbed the gun into Sam's ribs.

"Take it easy man, you've got the gun." Sam moved his feet without really thinking about it. He couldn't keep his mind from wandering to his brother. Dean had been in the desert for two days. What had happened? Was he OK? He tried not to dwell on the fact that no matter the situation his older brother always seemed to get into trouble. He was just a magnet.

"There keep walking, go inside." He said pointing to the main entrance of the prison up ahead.

Sam nodded continuing the march to his death. "You know this stopped being fun ages ago. How about you let me and my brother go, and we leave and never come back." At least not without backup.

"I don't think so. I already promised you to him."

"Wow. Wait. Him?" Sam stopped moving and turned to face his captor.

"Keep it movin'." He waved the gun.

"Would you please be careful with that thing man. Don't want me dying prematurely do you?" Sam was fed up with this psycho, way past pissed and fast on his way to Dean mode, which he lovingly named the state where he could no longer control his emotions or his mouth.

O'Malay laughed. "No guess I don't, he wouldn't be to happy about that. He wants to kill you on his own. He doesn't get too many and those he does, he likes 'em fightin'."

"What the Hell are you talking about old man ?!" Sam half yelled throwing his hands out in a questioning manner.

"The guard." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Sam just wanted to throttle him right there. This guy was giving them over to a ghostly guard so that he could get tourists to come to his town. "I give him a few people usually hunters that come through and he does what I tell him to. A few slammed prison cells and some ghostly moans, the tourists eat it right up."

"So you willingly _kill _people, _human_ _beings_, so you can get more money? You really are all kinds of crazy. How many have you killed? How many lives have you taken? How many families have you destroyed for your own selfish reasons?"

The man looked down shaking his head, still holding the gun at the ready and still moving his feet. "I already told you Sam, it isn't like that. This town was dying. _Dying. _And then when they heard that the old prison was haunted it came booming back to life. More people moved in looking to profit from the gold mine. Ya see kid, this isn't about me its about everybody in the town."

They had reached the door and Sam pushed it open slowly dread filling his heart, making seem too heavy to continue its normal rhythm. He wanted desperately to call out to his brother to find Dean and get them outta there but he was too afraid. Afraid of what he might find. Afraid of what might have happened while he was in the hospital.

Sam stepped forward eyes already searching, looking for a familiar form that he knew he couldn't live without. He almost gasped out loud when his search revealed nothing. Dean wasn't there. There was laughing behind him and Sam spun around glaring at the shorter man behind him.

"Guess he's already havin' fun with yer brother."

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	8. Chapter 7b

Yes I'm alive, No I didn't fall of the face of the earth. I feel terrible but I know I don't really have any excuse, all I can say is life comes at you hard sometimes, and you lose time for other things. But I finally have something that resembles a life again so updates will come flying at you so fast you'll have to duck!! lol.

So I hope you are still reading and enjoying the story, and ya know show a writer a lil love!

* * *

Dean's eyes rolled listlessly in his head, it didn't matter where he looked, there was nothing to see. He sat propped in the box, back against the small bench, his wrapped head leaning against the metal wall. His shirt hadn't been doing him much good torn to shreds and clinging to his open wounds. He used his extensive boy scout skills to tie it in a turban to keep his head protected from the superheated metal.

It felt good to just sit there and relax. If he thought about it or didn't think about it, depending on how he looked at it. He could close his eyes and just bask in the desert heat, maybe work on his tan like the guard had suggested. He laughed, the noise getting lost somewhere in his throat. It hurt to laugh and he decided that he didn't really care anymore it didn't hurt anymore than anything else. And suddenly he just couldn't stop laughing. Nothing was funny really, he was stuck in a metal sardine can, and he had no idea where his little brother was, so why couldn't he stop laughing.

All of a sudden the box shuck, the door rattling in place, Dean placed his arms on either side of himself to brace his injured body. It felt like a earthquake. Dean put his head down breathing sharply through his nose in an effort to control the pain flaring up in his back, this wasn't fun at all. The only plus was that he had finally stopped laughing, and seeing that as a good thing almost made him want to laugh again.

The shaking stooped just as soon as it had started. Dust and sand settled around him making him cough as the think particles got caught in his throat. Dean doubled over hardly able to breathe between hacking coughs, it felt like all the air had just been sucked out of the atmosphere leaving him to flounder like a fish out of water. When the attack finally subsided Dean was left bent double which was a feat in itself since he was already in such a cramped position. Tears were streaming down his cheeks leaving tracks in his dirt marred face. His breath came quick and uneven not enough to sustain his tired body, he began to feel incredibly lightheaded the lack of oxygen slowly shutting his body down.

Dean shook his head refusing to give into this weakness, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't fight his own body. Dean let his eyes slide shut hoping that Sam would find him soon.

* * *

Sam stared at the older man eyes wide with shock, his brain was running a mile a minute and his legs felt weak. "Where the hell is my brother?!" he shouted voice echoing around the empty prison.

"Hell if I know. Pro'ly out with the guard." The officer said with a smirk on his face. "Hope your brother's a fighter, he likes it when they fight."

The youngest Winchester spun on his heel turning back to face the older man. "Listen you crazy old bastard, whatever you released has my brother. Now normally I'm the reasonable one but you crossed the line _years _ago so I'll ask you one more time where is my brother." He pronounced the last few words very slowly making sure the old psycho knew exactly what he was saying.

"How 'bout you put your balls back in your pants, they won't do you much good here I've still got the gun and last I checked that means you do what _I _say not the other way around." O'Mallay said angrily shaking the gun in Sam's general direction. Sam just glowered in return trying to muster the dirtiest look possible to throw in the other man's direction. "Nothing to say to that huh?" O'Mallay waited for a response but Sam decided to keep his mouth shut and throw in a silent _'fuck you'. _

They stood there for a few minutes Sam watching the cop as his insane eyes darted around the prison looking for something that Sam couldn't see. Finally the older man's eyes landed on the second floor coming to rest on the third cell in, the same one that Dean had been trapped in when he left. O'Mallay stood there for another minute just staring up at the empty cell, suddenly he smiled and moved his gaze back down to Sam.

He nodded his head toward the door they had entered through. "You still wanna go see your brother?" He didn't wait for an answer "He says he's almost ready for you, and you might as well watch the rest of the show."

* * *

Sam squinted as he walked back out into the blazing sunlight, he was hot, sweating clear through the light t-shirt he was wearing. It made him think about how hot his brother must be at the moment sitting out in the 100 plus degree weather, it wasn't something that brought up pleasant memories, the Winchesters had dealt with heat stroke before.

- _1990 -_

_Sam was pissed. It was hot, heat wave actually, in Texas during a drought. So not only was every home on a water restriction but every apartment was on one twice as harsh because of all the families it provided for it had to be monitored like crazy, and there was no room for sneaking an extra drink. _

_He sat sulking at the kitchen table, Dean and his dad were on a hunt out in the desert. Sam had gotten out of it with a little help from Dean, he had a report due on Monday and really needed to get it done and even though John wasn't too big on the whole scholor scene he agreed that Dean was enough to watch his back for this one, albeit reluctantly. _

_'Sam needs to see these things Dean! He needs to know whats out there!'_

_'No, he doesn't Dad. At least not today. There are a million things out there that he can hunt on another day, he can sit this one out.'_

_'Sit it out?! How is that going to get him enough experience to _survive _these hunts if he keeps sitting it out Dean !? Do you want Sammy to get hurt during a hunt 'cause you didn't want him getting the experience?"_

_Sam had thought that one was a low blow but it was effective, he thought remembering the fight Dean and his father had had about the hunt. He remembered Dean's jaw snapping shut, and flinching as his brother did, Dean had swallowed hard and dropped his head down but he hadn't taken back any of his previous words and Sam was proud of the fact that Dean had stood up for himself. Sam smiled looking down at his project, he hadn't really _needed _to stay home he had almost been done when Dean had told him they were going out, but he had really wanted to spend some extra time on it and having the house to himself was just something that he couldn't pass up._

_He carefully closed the plastic booklet that housed his report and placed it safely into his backpack. Then he went about cleaning up the kitchen, he had made himself some dinner, and while he definitely wasn't the cook Dean was he could make some pretty mean omelette. He placed the extra eggs in the fridge along with the milk, butter, and cheese he had used, done with that he picked up his plate and washed it in the sink then closed all the books he had used and put then back into his backpack. Now that the house looked relatively clean again he could finally get some rest, but just as he was turning toward the bedroom he shared with his brother the front door burst open._

_John stormed in holding Dean tenderly in his arms. Sam sat dumbstruck, what the hell was going on, what had happened. Dean was so still in Dad's arms, his face was burning red and his breath was coming in quick panting gasps. 'Dad what the hell happened?' _

_'Not now Sam, go run an ice bath for your brother.' Sam just stood there staring at his brother. 'NOW Sam!' Sam ran into the bathroom turning the faucet on cold, Dean was hurt and it was all his fault. He never should have let them go alone!_

As it turned out heat stroke caused seizures and go figure Dean, having had them already as a baby was prone to them. It was a terrifying and something that Sam would never forget. The way Dean had shook in the bathtub as they were trying to cool him down. It all ended up into a completely preventable trip to the hospital and Sam had vowed not to talk to either man for the rest of the week, but it didn't work too much since Sam could never ignore Dean but he had done well ignoring John.

Sam was pulled out of his memories when O'Mallay abruptly stopped in front of him. There was a metal box in to the left of them, Sam knew that it was a hotbox where prisoners were put as punishment. This wasn't good.

"Bet ya can't guess where your brother is." O'Mallay mocked.

"Hm, well he's either in the hotbox or hiding somewhere under the sand, so I'm gonna have to go with the former." Sam said tersely trying to keep his composure if only for his brother's sake.

"Kid, you really should quit it with these smart remarks, I ain't really appreciating it."

"Oh well sorry that I'm not acting as my captor thinks I should."

"I could make this easy or hard on you Sammy, its your decision, now as for your brother he really didn't have a choice and you'll see where that got him." The older man started walking again heading left where the box stood. "You stay back here, don't want any interference here."

Sam watched frustrated as the cop moved moved stiffly over to the box that had kept his brother prisoner for past two days. He reached the door and touched the handle only to pull his hand back with a gasp, shaking out his fingers. And it made Sam think, if only the handle was that hot. . . He didn't even want to finish that thought. O'Mallay pulled his shirt sleve over his hand then again reached for the door, wrenching it open in one quick motion.

The young hunter couldn't clearly see the inside from his angle, but from the way O'Mally smiled he knew it couldn't be good.

Thanks for reading now hit the little button on the side you know you want to! Next chapter soon, I really actually mean it this time!! Scouts honor!!


	9. Chapter 8

Don't Own.

I know nothing I saw will make any of you forgive me for taking so long to update, but I am truly sorry for making you all wait for a ridiculously long time for the next chapter. I feel horrible leaving you all for so long, so maybe you will find it in your hearts to forgive a busy girl I would greatly appreciate it!!

Thanks! Enjoy the update!

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Sam peered over the older man's shoulder trying to get a clear look of what, or rather who was inside. All he could see clearly were a worn pair of boots before a face blocked his vision.

"What do you think you're doing? The prisoner can't come out without his guard." A malicious smile was thrown his way, before the man started chanting. Sam didn't catch what exactly he was saying but he knew by the tone and the situation that it had to be a summoning ritual. This was his chance as the older man's eyes stayed closed lost in his chanting Sam could make his move. He took a small step forward testing his boundaries, but the man in front of him didn't react. So he took a few more quick steps and when the officer still didn't react Sam moved all the way to the hotbox.

It was there that he finally found his brother.

Dean was lying sprawled out and cramped in all at the same time, Sam almost laughed, only Dean could really manage that. His brother's head was mashed into the corner under the small bench that occupied half of the small space. There was blood on what he could see of his face and the t-shirt Dean had previously been wearing was now on his head.

Sam's eyes moved down to Dean's chest his initial thought was that Dean bore a striking resemblance to a cooked lobster, his second thought was that really wasn't the color someones skin should be. The young hunter moved his hands over Dean's ribs swiftly and gently checking for breaks fortunately he didn't find any but when his hands came into contact with sticky dried blood wrapping around his back and reappearing at his sides Sam's heart almost stopped.

He suddenly couldn't remember if he had checked for a pulse and all that blood. . . There shouldn't be that much blood. He moved quick agile fingers up to Dean's neck and held two fingers at the point where head and jaw met, there was a pulse rapid, thready, but thankfully there. Sam didn't think he had time for a more thorough inspection or time to find the source of the blood, where ever it came from it had already stopped so even if he found the source there wasn't much he could do.

There was movement outside the box. It was small at first, so small in fact that he didn't realize anything was happening, but when he felt a small sting on the back of his neck Sam turned, he was being pelted with small sand granules. Outside there seemed to be a sandstorm blowing, but the hunter knew better. There at the center of the blowing sands was O'Mally.

The old man had a manic smile on his face, head thrown back, hands in the air and Sam swore he could hear the Dr. Evil laugh reverberating off the walls of the metal box.

No matter how much Dean ridiculed Sam for being so smart, Sam knew that his brother relied on the fact that he could think quick on his feet. Every hunter needed the ability. So he used his hunter instincts. Nothing good could come from the sand storm outside so Sam did the only thing he could think of, he grabbed the hot metal door ignoring the searing pain and pulled it closed hopefully offering up some protection for him and his brother.

It sounded like rain, all the little sand grains pelting the metal walls, it made Sam wish he had been able to hang on to his canteen. Not for himself but for Dean. Sam looked at his brothers burnt, yet oddly pale face and noticed how parched Dean's lips were. Severe dehydration, heat exhaustion, severe sunburn, and other injuries Sam couldn't see at the moment, Dean was literally a hot mess.

The commotion outside was enough of a distraction to give Sam enough time to finish his inspection, it was time to find the source of the blood. He rolled his brother over gently making sure to support Dean's head.

When his brother was finally on his stomach Sam saw the complete devastation that had been done to Dean's back. There were long thick strips of skin hanging off his older brother's back synonymous to the marks of a whipping. Sam gasped, Dean's back looked terrible and awfully painful. There was no where he could touch without hurting Dean's back even more.

Sam quickly stripped off his shirt deciding that those kind of wounds couldn't be left any longer. He ripped the shirt into long strips tying them horizontal wise across the gashes so that the knots rested against Dean's chest.

As soon as Sam was finished Dean began to stir. He came to with a small groan and a shake of his sun burned head. Sam laid a hand lightly on Dean's forehead keeping his brother still and down.

"Ow"

"Hey man nice to see you too." Sam said with a worried smile.

"Sammy? What'r 'u doin' 'ere?"

"Saving the damsel in distress of course."

Dean frowned at that, he tried to talk but it can out as a croak, he cleared his throat then tried again. "I'm a damsel?" He asked fevered brain not catching up with his brother's joke.

Dean tried to rise up but a firm hand on his head kept him down. Instead he moved his eyes around searching his already unfortunately familiar surroundings. His eyebrows creased down in confusion, "Dude is that rain?" he asked eyes perking at the thought of moisture.

"Nah man I wish,it's some sandstorm courtesy of our friendly neighborhood ghosty and crazed cop. Sorry."

"Your fault." It sounded like an accusation, and for a second Sam actually thought he was being blamed.

"What?" He asked trying to figure out what his brother was trying to say.

"Your fault?" Dean said again grabbing Sam's arm trying to pull himself up.

Sam finally realized Dean was asking a question not making an accusation. "No man, not my fault."

Dean smiled, cracked lips bursting open to spill blood down his chin. "Then stop saying sorry ya baby."

Sam laughed, half-hearted, trying to keep things light. "Hey man watch it you know I'm sensitive."

"Plan?" Dean rasped out clearly reaching the end of his strength reserves.

"I'm workin on it."

Dean snorted holding his ribs through the laugh. "Soundin' like me man."

"Yea I know. Don't worry I don't like it any more than you do."

"Oh Sammy grew a funny bone." He smiled blood shining on his teeth, it was a gruesome sight.

Sam was about to answer when a noise, or rather lack of noise distracted him. The sand had suddenly, abruptly stopped flying. "Do you hear that man?"

"Huh?" Dean was clearly not going to be able to help in his current state.

"Never mind man just lay back and relax I'm gonna take care of this one."

"Help?" Dean asked persistent to be the helpful big brother he always was. He tried to raise up pull his shoulders and aching back off of the ground, but Sam's hands kept him down.

"No Dean stay down, I got this." Dean made a noise half way between a grunt of affirmation and a snort of laughter and it gave Sam a boost of adrenaline, it was time to get his brother out of here. "I'll be right back Dean stay here OK?" He didn't know if Dean responded or not he didn't really want to wait for the protests he know his brother would throw at him.

Sam moved over to the door and pulled it open making sure to wrap what was left of his shirt around his hand so it wasn't burned again. He kept some of the door slightly in front of him making sure he was giving himself sufficient cover. All looked calm on the outside, but Sam had learned through experience that looks could be very deceiving.

He took a quick look left and right painfully aware that he was unarmed, he didn't see anything but that didn't mean his enemy wasn't somewhere out of sight. Then he heard a yell from somewhere behind the box. "Not this one!" came a gravelly voice Sam knew wasn't the old cops'.

"These are the ones I've brought so deal with them!" Now Sam definitely knew that voice. He didn't really understand what was going on but he did have an vague idea.

"He is clean I can take no more from him, you must find me another!" This was odd, a ghost takes his brother practically kills him than suddenly gets a conscience it didn't make sense. Sam decided to use it to his advantage. He moved slowly outside of the hotbox, looking back to make sure Dean was laying down safe as he could be in the current situation.

He inched around the door coming to a stop when the two figures came into view toward the back right of the box. Sam closed his eyes took a deep breath and moved into site. "Hey crazies! How about you include your victims in the discussion of their deaths, hows that sound?"

The old cop growled and the dead guard narrowed his eyes. "How 'bout you go wait with your brother kid, get some more time with him while you can." O'Mally sneered.

Sam knew there was no way he was getting to the psycho cop so he tried a different route, the conversation he had heard was at the forefront of his mind and he knew that the only possible way out of the situation was to talk to the long dead prison guard. It sounded crazy, but with the way the world of Winchester worked Sam knew crazy was the only way to go. "You can't do this." He gestured toward the box that held his brother. "We haven't done anything wrong, we came here to help!"

The guard looked at Sam eyes boring into the younger Winchester's head. "You don't know what goes on here." he said simply then turned his transparent head back in the officers direction.

This was his only chance and he wasn't going to loose it because this guard decided now wasn' t the time to listen. "But you do!" he shouted effectively getting both 'men's' attention. "You know everything that has gone on here. How many innocents have you killed? How many people lost their loved ones because this idiot, " he pointed at O'Mally savagely. "brought them here?" The guards face went blank with his words and if the man still had any blood in his body it all would have drained from his face in that moment.

"You!" the guard shouted turnind toward O' Mallay. "You made this happen, you brought all of them here. Made them all die!" Then the long dead man was no longer talking, he was shaking and the ground was shaking with him.

Years of knowing when it was time to run told Sam it was time to get out of Dodge. He turned on his heel and sprinted around the box making back to the entrance just as a brilliant blood red light flashed. Sam slammed the door shut behind him as another flash of red lit the desert. The box was trembling violently caught in the through of some supernatural earthquake. He did the only thing he could think of, Sam dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms carefully around Dean who grumbled weakly in protest.

The shaking grew and the light grew so bright Sam slammed his eyes shut. That was the last thing he saw before the world tilted and came crashing down.

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There should be one more chapter left to wrap it all up. Thanks again for every ones unending patience!!


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